Mother's Day, Meanderings and Motivation

I'm afraid this might be a rambling post...

I know. I know.

That may strike fear in some of your hearts as I tend to put out some purdy long posts as it is.

Bwahaha!

But at least you are not a captive audience.
You can always click that little "X" up there and walk away.
Or if you have a few minutes,
you might pour yourself a nice cup of hot tea...
or hot cocoa,
maybe a glass of lemonade if it's a scorcher in your neck of the woods...
curl up in your favorite spot on the couch with your laptop,
or cozy up in your computer chair and sit a while.

Just a lot of this and that in my head.
A few things to say.
Nothing particularly important.
Just some ramblings about a lot of different things lately.
Random tidbits,
happy memories,
plans for the future,
Hopes for tomorrow,
contented thoughts about today...
wow...
I'm even rambling about rambling...
nice.
:)

Our beautiful start to this LORD's day, began with Worship of course.
Made all the sweeter to me, because my dear hubby hobbled his way
to services with us.
It was painful, but he is one tough cookie.
And he went back with us tonight too.
Thankfully, every day he is making progress.
We go back to the surgeon this Friday to get the bandages off and staples out...eek.
He is hopeful that we can stop giving him his nightly Lovinox shots in the stomach.
Blood. Clot. Prevention.
Yep.

He has given some serious thought as to how dying from a blood clot might not be so bad.

Probably not just ONE of the worst parts of this broken leg dilemma,
but THE worst...

Hubby is needle phobic.

I am not on his most favorite people lists for at least a few minutes of every day.
But we are getting by...

but onto Mother's Day!

My Mother's day actually started Saturday night, when Josh got home from work.
We were all busy wrestling a bed out of his old room
(that he is still in)
that we had moved out of his new room
(so I could paint)
when he got home from work...that is another story...
but really, you don't have that much time...(and hubby is a callin' me...)

After it was moved and the huffing and puffing had subsided, I sailed into the kitchen
to point out how lovely it was to look out the kitchen door at the beautiful,
newly sided exterior wall...
Then when I turned around, I saw this breathtaking bouquet of
multi-colored roses on the table.

The kiddos had a good laugh at my expense for missing this gi-normous bouquet,
in my haste to point out the work Robert and Dustin had accomplished, while Josh was at work (besides all the painting that Candice and I accomplished...I love productive days!)

Ahem.
O.k.
On to today.
(which by the time you read this will be yesterday.)

Purdy Pictures

This is the beautiful Mother's Day bouquet that my super duper children
plotted,
planned
and purchased.
***happy sigh****
I do love those chilluns of mine!
Not to mention purdy flowers!

I sure wish I was better at snapping family pictures.
Ashley and Nathan and our sweet grandblessings, Angelbaby and Sugarbear all came over today.
The whole brood back in the nest for a day.
Happiness. Pure. And. Simple.

I do love having all my chicks and grand chicks under my wings.

But, did I snap one single, solitary photo of that sweet crew?
Nope.
Nada.
As in Not One.
Tonight (hence the lighting not being sooo great) I thunk to snap some
pictures of these BE-UTE-I-FUL flowers...
but my kiddos...
sigh...


I am down right partial to family! I know with every cell of my being how blessed I am to have my dear hubby and sweet children. Every day they are more precious to me...
I'll get to some more thoughts about counting our blessings and focusing on today in a minute...
I warned you it would be rambly.

Anyway...
We decided, yesterday, that the perfect Mother's Day would include carry out pizza on paper plates and a nap some time in the day.

Mission Accomplished!

After stuffing our faces (and tummies) with stuffed crust pizza,
I cozied up with those little babies and read some stories upstairs in our study.
Then, I settled in our comfy, white, over pillowed bed with my sweet grand blessings.
Just in case you didn't know: A nap with your grand babies is PURE BLISS.

Did I mention the day included flowers?
Yep!

So it was a perfectly lovely day.
I couldn't have asked for better.
While we girls all napped in various cozy locations, the fellas played Kansasopoly.
(Well, thankfully, poor, broken legged hubby napped also. This was a long day for him.)
Then we visited some more, snacked a little more,
laughed a lot and listened to a little music.Tonight, after evening worship, hubby relaxed and propped up his leg a bit
while Candice and I got a nice walk in and the boys went for a short bike ride with Josh while he ran.

It was the perfect Springtime evening walk.

Every time Chasity, Shauna and I would run, we always talked about how God rewarded us with something beautiful in His nature for us to see, hear or enjoy.
Many a run we spotted vibrant, indigo buntings, always flitting right ahead of us as we ran.
Songbirds, deer, rainbows, heron, sunsets (alas...not to many sunrises in our running history), owls, bats, butterflies...always something beautiful.

Tonight was no different.
As Candice and I set off down our gravel road the cool of the evening almost sang a springtime lullaby to us both. Without sounding downright daft, nature is enthralling to me. I often feel wrapped in a cocoon of contentment and calming peace when I walk or run down our little country road.
As we walked we talked. We listened to each other and the lovely sounds around us, and we just soaked in the beautiful gift of this spring evening.

There was a sweet smell, like honeysuckle, already on the gentle breeze, with a tangy whiff of cedar every now and then. We talked about her upcoming graduation as we heard an owl calling from the tree tops and the peepers chirruped to us every step of the way.

I have three favorite sounds in nature.
Frogs singing.
Owls hooting.
and my most favorite of all...
the tender~sweet call of the whippoorwill.

As we huffed and puffed our way up the big hill, we caught sight of a bat...
then another,
and then one more.

Then we heard the first cicadas singing their summertime chorus with the frogs...but the best was yet to come.

As we made our way home,
the first sweet notes of a whippoorwill drifted to our ears.
Then we heard another, then another as their song followed us all the way home.

I can't put into words how moved I feel when I hear this simple creature singing.
It moves me deeply, unexpectedly every time I hear one call.
I don't care if you call me sappy.
It overwhelms me, but in a good way.

It is another reminder that I am
blessed above measure.

Thankful.

Grateful for another day with my husband,
with my children,
and grandchildren,
in our home here in the country.
Thankful to enjoy another Spring.
Another evening.

Focused on today and so thankful for it.

It is liberating to shake off tomorrow.

Box it up.

Put it aside.

Save it for tomorrow...when it will be today.

But today, just focus on today.

I've not mastered it yet.

But each day that I do,
as worry or wondering creeps in,
and I am able to stop it,
and leave tomorrow right where it belongs...
and bring my focus back to today,
it's like a heavy, heavy burden lifts off of my shoulders.

Liberating is the best word I can come up with.

It's so easy to borrow trouble worrying about things that may never come to pass,
or about things we can not change in the past,
or that are beyond our control in the future.

God wants something better for us.

His plan is one of peace.

No matter what is going on.
No matter how deep the pain and suffering.

He wants us to be Peaceful.

Content to live in today.

I love days that I get this.

I hope to get this more often.

Not just on easy days like today,
where I see all these blessings right in my face.
But on the cloudy days too.
The life is hard in your face days.

I'm working hard to live in today.

Working hard to see what a blessing today is.

I love this old saying/prayer:

Dear Father,
Please grant me
the serenity to accept the things I can not change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.

It seems so trite.

But it's the truth.

It's talking about living in today.

So, let's get to it...
well,
after a good nights sleep.

Dear hubby is calling, "Marie, you coming to bed?"

Nite friends.
Love,
~m.

p.s. the motivation is get out there and move!!! God will reward you with something beautiful every day if you just get up, get out, and get busy!
Love to you all.

Reminiscing

Things have settled down a bit.

Hubby is home and resting much better than at that noisy, pokey
(as in needle pokey, not slow pokey...well that too)
beeping, blinking,
wake-you-up-to-see-how-you're-resting hospital.

As for me,

I am past the half way point with my radiation and feeling pretty good!
Twenty down, sixteen to go.

Our to-do list is still ever so long...

and has, of course, been put on hold as life keeps changing our plans.

But, with surgery over,
David resting,
me glad to be over half way done,
I am in a get busy mood.
Make hay while the sun shines!
(or do it quick before the next crisis hits!! :) )

So, we are back at it.

Chipping away at yard work,
house work,
painting,
mending,
sewing...
ah....happy sigh...
I do love to chip away at lists you know!

However, I didn't get to the promised picture taking of the "new" house,
or of any new projects...
I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you did not ask, "Why?"
:)

Though our kiddos have done a stupendous job of "keeping house" and
keeping up with school during these rough patches...
things are a bit muddled and not in tip top shape,
and I,
little ol' moi,
refuse to post pictures of the new part of the house with dust bunnies
and dirt clods all over the place...
it just takes a day or two around here in the Spring and things begin to grow...
right in the living room...
Yup.

Anyway,
while doing all of this cleaning,
sorting,
get busy or get rid of it...
I came across a picture CD,
a few actually.
But this one was a lovely little CD
with some purrddyy pictures on it of days gone by.

We love parties 'round here.
Have I mentioned that?
Baby shower.
Bridal Shower.
Birthday.
Holiday.
Graduation.
(one coming up as a matter of fact)
Fun Family Night.
Any. Old. Reason.
That's what I'm talkin' about!

Ahem...where was I?
Ah yes, the CD.
It was a bridal shower we did for one of my oldest daughter's best friends,
Rebecca.
Shauna and Chasity and I hosted it...
and, well...
we do especially love to throw a girlie party!

So since I'm not ready to post any new pictures,

I thought I would post a few of Rebecca's sweet little shower...
oohh~la~la~lovely!!

And yummy!

It seems like it was just yesterday!

Hopefully soon I'll get around to posting some new pictures of the "new" house.

Thanks for reminiscing with me.

Hope your evening is sweet.
Love to you all.
~m

Back at it...sorta...

After months of being away from creating,

well...not counting painting walls,
ceilings
and furniture...

I am,

I think,

ready to work on the wild raspberry shop again.

It seems a little strange to be doing this solo,
but I think it will be o.k.

Chas is following her heart and pursuing photography,
and I am following mine with this little shop.

I have always wanted a home business that's not so much a business, but a hobby and a joy. In sewing, crafting, creating beautiful things, I find a great outlet that fits in perfectly with my role as wife, mama/grandmama and home maker. One that will not be top priority, but will fit in nicely with our family life.

Amidst all the chaos and struggles, right now may seem like an odd time for me to be doing this.

But frankly,
opening up a little shop again
is a welcome diversion.

With Shauna's illness life kind of stopped.

I don't regret it a bit.
I'm not complaining.
It just was~is so.

We stopped running,
gardening,
crafting,
sewing.

Things just seemed hard.

Chas and I have talked about it often.

It was just hard to do those things when Shauna couldn't.
We didn't even have the desire to.
None of it felt right.

But now, what is there left for us to do?

We kept waiting, hoping, praying that she would get better.

And now she is gone.

Our lives will NEVER be the same.

Our Joy has been tempered with a bitter sweet quality that will never be what it once was.

We have learned a lot.
We are continuing to learn a lot.
Lessons we really didn't want to learn.
Lessons that are harder than hard.
Lessons that focus us sharply on Heaven,

but also lessons that focus us on
finding and enjoying the beauty of TODAY.

We long for the day when we can be with her again...
but until then we have to put one foot in front of the other.

We have to live and do,
like she would want us to do,
like God wants us to do.

So, I am.

I am excited about it.
I think Shauna would be excited with me and for me.
She would have so many great ideas, and pictures to show me that she had saved.
Her blue eyes would sparkle as she said "Oh, do you know what I saw??? Did I show you...???"

Chasity always came up with great ideas she had found on a beautiful blog, or a cute little shop she had stumbled upon, or a great magazine photo...
I'm not sure I'll do so great without the two of them to inspire me...
but I know it is going to be good for me.
It is going to be fun and I am looking forward to just...
trying.

I am going to try to take pictures of my sewing/craft room this week.
(certain friends keep asking for pictures...ahem, Joy)

I already put a few goodies back in the shop with some new pictures of them.

The lighting in my sewing room (thanks to hubby) is really nice.
That, along with the vintage and antique pieces
I have been picking up cheap the last few months
(auctions....sigh....I do LOVE auctions...)
should make for some nice pictures,
even by this pitifully amateur photographer.

We'll see.

Anyway.

Whatever happens I'm trying to dance in the rain.
~~~~~~~
Hubby and I were home and worshiped watching OABS this morning.
Tonight we all left him here to worship with OABS solo.
I had not left him yet, but of course he did fine.
He just stayed put.
:)
We had a lovely family supper tonight,
after evening worship,
full of laughter, stories, good food and good times.
I am so grateful for the family that God has blessed us with.
We just love each other so much!

I hope your weekend was blessed with friends, family, Faith and love as well!

Love to you all,
~m.

Learning to dance in the Rain

Thank you for your continued love and prayers.

We have been home from the hospital for a few hours now.

David is settled in nicely and I have most things unpacked and put away. Unfortunately he had to wait over an hour to take more pain meds once we got home. Moving around is NOT fun at all for him, but he is very tough and not a complainer. His pale face, clinched jaw and sweaty forehead are sadly dead give aways, though.

But now I can hear soft snoring coming from his chair right behind me, and I am thankful he is resting so well. He really needs it.

He will be having surgery to put in pins, screws and plates to try to fuse the many pieces of his broken fibula (if I didn't mix it up, it is the larger of the two bones) back together. The tibia has only one fracture. We are very, VERY thankful it was not worse...just a fraction of an inch higher and his knee would have been crushed too...even harder to repair. Pretty things do not happen to a strong leg, even one belonging to my Superman hubby, when it is crushed between an Expedition tow hook on a front bumper and a tool box.

It was just an accident, but the person who was responsible (or irresponsible in my way of thinking) was fired. David did not want him to be. He holds no ill will or grudge, but it was his bosses decision and I think the right one. It was quite a painful and costly mistake to make, and at my poor husband's (and the shops) expense.

We pray for no infection, no falls and no further damage before they can operate some time in the next two weeks, and for the pain to be able to be controlled. We sure would appreciate your prayers for the same.

We are a bit of a pair...after stopping to get his prescriptions, and a pizza so I wouldn't have to cook, he had to sit and watch me struggle to carry in a few bags that were overloaded. My soreness/tenderness/weakness on the right side has been worse the last few days. Probably just a bit of stress and not sleeping well aggravated it a bit...those hospital chair beds...ahem...not great.

Along with that, I am already a bit pink. I have always preferred medium~ rare,
to well done, and I am hoping that is how I will turn out! :)

Before anyone hollers something about our kiddos helping, Josh was at work,
and we let Candice, Robert and Dustin go on to a Youth Rally tonight.

It all got done, just a bit slower than I would have liked.
We are way too young to feel this decrepit and I double dog dare any of you to say any differently!!! :)

One day at a time though, and we will be just fine. These difficult times make us realize our blessings and point out our need for our Father, our friends and our family.
We really do love you all and are so grateful for you.

I am most especially grateful for our God that does not shun me when I am weak and fearful, as I have often been in the last several months, crying out for strength, begging Him to increase my Faith and to help me to not be afraid, whatever the future holds.

We have had a lot of discussions/Bible studies/ prayers about how hard life has been, how we want it to be easier, how we are sometimes afraid it might not be...and how, while we MAY ask God to help times to not be so hard, we must realize the answer may be NO...
so the deeper focus of our prayer life is to ask God for STRENGTH for whatever lies ahead,
and for a cheerful heart to handle it.

I know I am not telling you anything new.

But let me say, knowing this, and living this are two different things.

I have been through hard times before, and I survived

LOTS of folks have, and are, going through harder times than us, right now.

But I think(and I suspect others do to) that I have still tended to live in that "God will take care of it, everything will be o.k." simplistic attitude.

I am not saying that God WON'T take care of us.

No.
NO.
NO!

I am not saying that at all.

I am saying that sometimes God taking care of us
just may not be what we have in mind
AT ALL.

We mean "God, make it EASY!"

We mean "God, I'll be faithful and not worry if you just don't make it too hard."

We tend to let ourselves feel protected from the big physical struggles/illnesses/traumas,
things that God NEVER promised to protect us from.

Then, guess what?
When they come, our faith is shaken,
some times destroyed because it was built on false hope and misguided trust.
God's promise of Peace is a Spiritual one.
Yes He is here with us now, in this Life.
Yes He hears our every prayer.
But His Peace is not like the world's peace.
Jesus said that Himself.
It is a confidence of perfect peace and rest after this hard, hard life is over.

It's a peace we get now for the promise we'll receive some day.

It's sobering.

I think it is difficult to properly focus on sometimes,

because we are caught up in wanting a more perfect life down here.
An easier life.

NOW IT'S NOT WRONG TO WANT IT EASIER!

It's just,
friends,
we might need to grow our spiritual maturity level a little...

or a lot

and realize
that it just might not get easier for a while.

Again, I'm not telling you, or me, anything new.

I'm not telling you I like it,
or I've got it down.

If you've read much of what I have posted on facebook lately,
You'll know my struggle with this.

I wonder if when God looks down at me he sees a child
"kicking and screaming"...
that's the visual image I have of myself sometimes.
A tantruming child shouting "I don't want it this way!!!

Yep. Knowing it and living it are two different things.

I am working on it.
Boy, I get tired of saying that.
:)

I recently came across a beautiful saying that I believe carries an Heaven sent message:

"Life is not about waiting for the STORM to pass...

It's about learning to dance in the rain."

These words walk hand in hand with my struggle...with knowing what I need to do, and working on doing it.
These words speak to me like the words of God Himself

No, I haven't gone off my rocker.
No, I'm not elevating a saying to be equal to God's word

It's simply HIS idea I see in these words.

Don't let trouble knock you down...stay happy, faithful and focused on Heaven.

I hope that if you're like me, and you catch yourself waiting for the perfect,
trouble free day, that you will
stop it.

THIS is the best day we are going to get and the only day we get TODAY.

You know the old saying "Make hay while the sun shines" Meaning, seize the moment to do the work at hand...well, that's right.

But as Christians, we need to be making hay all the time in the sun and in the rain.
Kind of live in the sunshine, or make our own...Hmm...another post talking about sunshine again.

That has been the thought in my heart.
Struggles and Rain always makes me think of Sunshine and Shauna,
now more than ever.
That is how Shauna lived.
She had a whole passel of rainy days,
yet she still lived in the sunshine.

I am working with all my might to dance in the rain.

Like Shauna did.

Like God wants me to.

I don't and won't always get it right but I'm trying.

I hope you do too,
and I thank you for helping me to.

Love you all.

I'm gonna go kiss my hubby really softly on top of his head,
get a drink of water and finish my movie.
Nite friends.

~m

Adjusting...

Time keeps on moving, and while I can't stop it, sometimes it makes me mad. That seems to be my first reaction to a lot of things...now more than usual unfortunately. The last two days of sunshine have lifted everyone's spirits. We have tried to get back to some "normal" day to day activities, but then when we do get busy and feel normal, it feels odd, and I feel guilty, sad, angry. These feelings are fleeting, but real and I have to deal with them.

I know I don't need to feel guilty, I share this because, this is where I am, not because I don't know where I should be. I'm torn between wanting to feel normal, and feeling like normal isn't right or possible, or it's too soon.

When I stop and and make myself think about it, I know that God intends for time to help and heal. That Shauna wants it that way and that is good and right. But it's just hard. Losing someone of this magnitude, this woven into the fabric of our life is not "move-on-able". I guess we "adjust" is the best word I can come up with. But Shauna will never fade away or be forgotten. Life will go on, and we will heal, but we won't really ever "move on" as some might recommend.. Anyone that knew Shauna, just knows that she is not "move-on-from-able". Period. I don't think that anyone who knew her would want to.

I know that normal will creep back into our days, more than stumbling through them. It is happening to some extent already. We are spending less time in tears and more time smiling and even laughing. It's too hard to stay in this place of deep grief for ever. And again, Shauna would not want us to. She would want us to make our "adjustments" to life without her, then live it for all we're worth. She would want us to love every day with our family and friends with all of our hearts. She would want us to love on our husbands and kiddos, cuddle them and kiss them all and hold them close. She would want us to paint, and plan, and garden and run. And we are trying. Oh, we are trying, to find a zeal for those things again. But it is slow coming.

I did paint today. I finished painting my sewing room, and David wired up all of the lights. The sunshine was pouring in, and I thought how much she would love the sewing room, and of all the projects I hope to do some day and how she would love them. How she would smile her sparkling smile, with those shining, twinkling blue eyes, and offer some great suggestions. I wished we could have talked about them, and planned some together. But I know one day we will sit down together again. We might not be talking about projects and painting and sewing, but we will have so much to talk about and to catch up on.

I am going to live a good life, an obedient life to God, because I love HIM and I long to be with Him. But also because I am determined...So determined to sit myself down with my Sweet Shauna and have a good long talk again. I see the three of us sisters and our children sitting cross legged in a beautiful grassy field in Heaven with wild flowers all around, making daisy chains, basking in the Love of our LORD, talking and laughing, that deep down, throw your head back, belly laugh.

And then it won't mater how hard it was, or how long it took us to "adjust" because we'll be together for all eternity. And this silly life with all it's sorrows and its earthly joys, just won't have mattered a bit.

Shauna and love

collage by Alyssa

Shauna was patient and kind;
She did not envy or boast;
She was never arrogant or rude.
Shauna did not insist on her own way;
She was not irritable or resentful;
She did not rejoice at wrongdoing,
but rejoiced with the truth.
Shauna bore all things,
believed all things,
hoped all things,
endured all things.

She believed that Love never ends.

And she helped us all to believe too.

She helped us to see faith, hope, and love abide,

these three;

but the greatest of these is love.

~M.

A matter of Perspective

Knowing where to start with this post is tricky,
because it seems like I might need to go far, far, back...
like farther than anyone living that knows my whole story,
except for one of my childhood friends...

But I also feel like I need to start with a disclaimer. For real. Like, "Don't read this if you are under eighteen, have too tender of a heart, or are easily prone to nightmares." I wish I was kidding, but I'm not.

Or I could start with, please let's all have an open heart.
This post is not about "I am better than You" or "You are better than me",
nor is it "I'm the stronger Christian and you are the weaker one"
or "You are the stronger Christian and I am the weaker one".

This post is really all about perspective.

Mine is probably different from yours and that's alright.

This is not a post about,
we're all entitled to our own interpretation of the scriptures...

We're not.

Again, it's really about perspective.

I will get to my three favorites too... Love, Mercy and Grace.

As I study God's word daily,
I just can't get away from how obedience to God
is completely wound up with these three.

The Bible has a lot to say about perspective.
It gives a lot of different people's perspective from all walks of life.
Godly people, forgiven prostitutes,
loving mothers and hypocrites.
Fishermen, rich and poor.
Angels, innocent children and even Satan, himself.

Some people have a wrong perspective, because of faulty reasoning.
That should go without saying.
Some should be listened to,
others ignored.

But too often we ignore what we don't understand.
Not necessarily because we are trying to discern from God's word
whether we should listen,
but simply because we disagree and discount there perspective,
just because it is not ours.

They weren't raised in a Godly Christian home, like us.

What could we possibly learn from them?

In our own heart of hearts we deem them "weaker Christians",
"lesser Christians",
though we wouldn't utter these words out loud.

Instead we give furtive looks to other "stronger" Christians
as the "weaker" share their perspective with us.

We exchange "knowing" glances with other "stronger Christians" as the "weaker" talk on.

I'm not talking here about someone who is a novice or new convert.
Nor am I talking about someone who is living in error,
though they have been a member of the church for years.
I'm not talking about immodesty issues,
or being off on the working of the Holy Spirit, or marriage, divorce and remarriage,
or those that will not put away sin they are involved in.

I'm talking about Christian's ignoring the perspective of other Christians.
I'm talking about being closed minded where God did NOT say to close our minds.
I am talking about having a little more love,
grace and mercy for our sisters and brothers in Christ.
I'm talking about compassion and understanding and
throwing the holier than thou attitude out the window.

I'm not talking about lowering our morals, our standards or our guidelines. God's word is immovable and not able to compromise.
I'm talking about not focusing or thinking that our way is the ONLY, BEST, RIGHT way,
And instead, remembering that it is GOD'S way that we are to follow.

The sin condemned over and over in the Bible is pride, not humility.
The pride of those that exalt themselves and their own works.
The pride of those that look down on the lowly in heart, simply because they can not read their hearts, and unjustly condemn those that God loves with tender mercy.

The pride that forgets that we are all filthy sinners that deserve to be lost.

The pride that will not look at or listen to another's perspective.

The pride that forgets that LOVE is the Greatest and Highest command and that the pure blood of Christ washes EVERY sin, and every soul, no mater how blackened by the darkest sin, whiter than snow upon their penitent confession and baptism.

God uses His word to teach us about perspective, but sometimes it seems either accidentally,
or sadly, on purpose,
we choose to ignore those lessons He would have us to learn.
We get caught up in tithing mint and cumin and forget the weightier matters of the law...
like the LOVE that goes with OBEDIENCE.

Sometimes when I read the verse "There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the spirit."Romans 8:1
I catch myself sighing, deep down in my heart, and thinking...

Only condemnation by other Christians.

You see, I have been labeled as that "weaker Christian" at times in my life.
I have sat in my own kitchen, or even in the house of family or friend,
and seen those knowing glances exchanged over my head.
Sadly, it was not imagined on my part.
I wish it were.
I will share my story shortly.
But first, can we not pause to consider that it takes all kinds,
of all walks to make up the church?

Can we not realize the suffering that some have had to endure,
or at least take it under consideration?

Can we not realize, that they may have something to give in the way of knowledge,
because of the battles they have fought and overcome?

Can we not realize that their souls are every bit as white as ours?

Can we not remember that unto whom much is forgiven, he loves much?

Can we not realize that Heaven will not be compartmentalized between "us" and "them"?

Here is a bit of my story.

Let me back up. This is not a plea based solely on emotions, but emotions are involved in this post. That's the nature of the beast. I will share a few things that some may feel is nothing but an attempt to appeal to your heart/emotions, rather than your heart/mind. However, hopefully most that read this will understand that sometimes in life, you simply can not separate the two. God is the creator of both. We can not be ruled by our emotions, but some life experience are so strong, so hurts so deep, you can not separate them.

Christ's foreknowledge of His crucifixion caused him to weep, and sweat as it were great drops of blood. That was powerful emotion coupled with an agony of thought...inseparable as He fulfilled the Father's will.

I wasn't raised in a Christian home.
A lot of people have worse stories than mine.
I don't doubt it.
Sadly, I know it to be true.
I have done my fair share of attempting to read some "self help"
"deal with your past" books...
I read enough to get just a whiff of some of the atrocities other victims of abuse have undergone, and had to put the book(s) down.
But you can't avoid it.
Before you can get the channel changed an abuse story comes on the news and your mind is flooded with images and words about the real live monsters that live in this world.

They don't hide under your bed as a child, but sometimes they creep into it.

I was raised by my mother until I was nine. My mom had me when she was seventeen. My biological father, her first husband, was forty four. They divorced after my first birthday and I only saw him a few times after that. Mom re-married four other times before I was five years old, all to much older men fitting the description of a "father figure" to her, a product of some of her own issues. Some of those men were abusive to me. All were abusive to her. We were threatened regularly, cussed out, slapped, punched, exposed to pornography multiple times, and once even shot at. Most of them, perhaps all, I don't know, were alcoholics.

I love my mom.
I am thankful for her.
I remember her as loving, funny,
willing to do anything for anybody,
and overwhelmed by life.

She did the best she could, I guess, for what she knew.
She had her own demons to battle,
and lost that last battle to suicide when I was nine years old.

From then on I was raised by my wonderful grandparents, and life was much more normal. No more moving every few months. No more strange, dirty hands groping for me in the middle of the night. No more waking up in the night, terrified by where I was, or who was there with me, or wondering if anyone was there at all.
But, the damage had been done.

The first time I was molested as a child I was probably three. I remember those first groping hands from the teenage girl that was "babysitting" me overnight for my mom. Hands that a few hours before had played with me and tucked me in.

And I wondered where my mom was, and if this was normal.

That was only the beginning. And really, is not the most horrid of my memories. I remember liking this "friend", but being so confused by things. That is the nature of the beast. It is part of the twisted, nasty world of child abuse. The child usually loves and trusts her abuser, which really compromises our adult minds when trying to sort out what is "real" love "pure" love "normal" love, and what is not.

Too many abusers, too may strange houses and strange people over those first five years of my life. Always friendly, always groping, always acting as if it were just a game. I really don't remember exactly how many their were. Sometimes my mind things six, sometimes, eight.

Maybe I might have gotten off NOT so messed up if it weren't for the last one, my step father. He was husband/daddy number five. I was to call him "Papa Glenn", but later as trust developed, I called him daddy. He was my worst nightmare,
truly the bane of my existence, my molester and tormentor.

The marriage was a record for my mom, who was determined to make a go of things this time. Five years. I feel certain to this day that she did not know of the abuse. He was quite deceptive and manipulative about it all. He became my daddy, and I couldn't have been more thrilled. Finally I had "normalcy" a real family. Five years is a long time in the life of a nine year old. The abuse did not occur the entire time. Not even most of the time. I think that is better, but I don't know. Because the first several years I was learning to trust, to think this was real, to have a daddy that would love and protect me from the chaotic childhood I was accustomed to.

Then one night while mom was at work he crept into my room and came and sat on the edge of my bunk bed. He did not turn on the light. I remember the panicky feeling that gripped me. I immediately felt frightened, terrified, sick to my stomach. Then it began.

I will go to my grave with that memory burned into my mind, and many more like it. I have prayed I could forget it, but to no avail. The sounds of his breathing, the smell of his aftershave. It still causes bile to rise in my throat.

All the details are not needed. But a few I will have to share, to help you understand. To hope you understand. The abuse lasted for months...maybe a year.
Up until the day my mom took her own life.

I had already witnessed a prior attempt at suicide with a prescription drug overdose, a time when my "dad" drug her naked body from the bedroom where he found her, to the bathroom and made her drink raw eggs until she vomited it all up. Many months later while my "dad" worked a night shift and I got to sleep in my mom's bed, I cried and wrapped my arms around her and I begged her to never do that again, to please, please, never do that again.
She assured me she would not.

Less than a year later, she pulled the trigger and broke that promise.

We're not on that subject, but it's all wound up with this one.

Not too many details.
They make me tense.
Tight.
Nervous.
Unsettled.
Sick to my stomach.
They don't need to be repeated.

An eight year old girl and a fifty something year old man who did not want to get caught with his sick habit. One who told me, threatened me, to never tell about our "little games" or momma would be angry with me, everyone would be angry with me.

I mentioned that he did not want to get caught, so there was only so much abuse he could inflict upon me without doing noticeable damage. Only so much abuse he could make me perform, without his dirty secret being out.

So he did the next best thing, this daddy of mine. This man that I came to love and trust and be THANKFUL for. He told me that he was too big for me then, and that I was too little, that he would hurt me, and he didn't want that to happen, because he loved me so much.
But he MADE ME TO SOLEMNLY PROMISE that he would be my first.

And that damage just could not be undone.

Months went by and then my mother died,
and I went to live with my grandparents.

I was safe from abuse from then on.
I had a very good life.
I was free from abuse, fighting, alcoholic fits,
though not free from alcoholism in the home.
No more moving from place to place and school to school.
I had stability.

But every day I lived with the repercussions of what had been done,
and my fate seemed sealed to me.

I know now that I had very normal reactions to very abnormal circumstances.

The term "hell bent" is vulgar and not one I would use under any normal conditions, but it best describes my emotional state at the time. I was determined that my stepfather, who still had occasional contact with me (no one knew, you see) would not be "my first" as he had extracted that promise. And so at the ripe old age of fourteen, I gave up my "alleged" virginity. It wasn't a hard decision to make at all. I really didn't think anyone could or would actually consider me a virgin. I didn't consider myself one. I was simply determined "dad" would NOT be the one,
anymore than he already had been.

I thought myself truly in love with the young man that I gave my tainted self to, and we were faithful to each other for a few years. He is the biological father of my precious oldest daughter. But, truth be told, we were not Christians. I was a recipe for disaster in any relationship, and though I wanted normalcy and life long commitment I had not a clue how to find it, and neither did he. By God's Providence, and my sweet Grandmother's influence, we did not marry.

Besides the blood of Christ, and my obedience to the gospel, the fact that we did not marry is the single most important fact that I am most thankful for in my life.

It humbles me every day, with every breath, to think what would have been if I had married, divorced and not been a candidate for marriage to my husband, David, the teacher of my soul, the one who shared the soul redeeming gospel with me.

I believe that God looked down from heaven often at points in my life and wept for all the suffering I had endured at the hands of others.
But now, I brought suffering on myself in the way of a sinful lifestyle.

Again, I now know that it is common for young victims of sexual abuse to be promiscuous. What boundaries do they have? What boundaries did I have? None.

But after a year of living a promiscuous and chaotic life, I had come to my end.
I had a precious child to take care of,
and I knew I needed to straighten up and NOT repeat my mother's mistakes.
I was done.
I wanted peace.
I wanted life free of chaos and sin.
My "whole" young life, I always wanted what I never had.

Normalcy.
A forever love me husband.
A forever love me daddy for my sweet daughter.
Safety.
A forever family.
A large family to love and take care of.
No divorce ever.
That was what my will said.
But I knew nothing of what it took to get or to live that life.

Thankfully, mercifully, God had plans for me, only His plans WOULD be fulfilled. And by what I believe with all my heart was His merciful Providence and great love, I met my husband, David.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again, my post has blown up on me and grown too long. I will try to finish this another night this week. Please be patient with me...my point is coming.

Love to you all,
~M